06.19.02-5:43 p.m.>

So my aunt lent her copy of Rosie O'Crapfaces book to my mother.

I started thumbing through it out of boredom and became enfuriated, because this woman,who for all intensive purposes writes like the inside of hallmark cards gone horribly wrong, has a BOOK, and a Magazine.

The only two things I have ever wanted since I was a wee mee.

So I said to myself, I can write a book, and I've said this to myself e,outloud even, countless amounts of times.

But everyone needs a summer project, and this one is mine. To write as much as I possibly can, and get my new computer built.

rock.